


three riddles

by deniigiq



Series: Blindspot and the Ordeal of Being Known [4]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen, Matt and Foggy are so married its painful, Questions, Social Media, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:01:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23079031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deniigiq/pseuds/deniigiq
Summary: The apprentice was chatting to someone in a mix of Chinese and English. It didn’t sound like he was talking to Hannah. It sounded like he was talking to no one, actually, which was mildly concerning.(Sam does an AMA for his social media followers. Matt gets dragged into it.)
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Samuel Chung & Matt Murdock
Series: Blindspot and the Ordeal of Being Known [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658656
Comments: 23
Kudos: 451





	three riddles

**Author's Note:**

> due to a lack of Blindspot in all of my media and my crushing anguish over that, I have decided to dedicate a whole series just to him and his adventures with Matt.  
> This is that.  
> I've moved some of the earlier works into it for the sake of continuity.

The apprentice was chatting to someone in a mix of Chinese and English. It didn’t sound like he was talking to Hannah. It sounded like he was talking to no one, actually, which was mildly concerning.

“Make him eat,” Foggy said with a brush buried in Hazel’s mane.

“He refuses everything I take him,” Matt said.

“That’s ‘cause he thinks you’ve poisoned it. And _that_ ’s because you have a track record.”

Now that wasn’t very charitable.

“Name a single person who likes being drugged, Matthew.”

“Name a single person who suffers a cold less gracefully than myself, Franklin.”

Foggy grumbled.

Yeah, that’s what Matt thought.

“Take him something to eat,” Foggy insisted anyways.

Ugh. Fine.

Matt knocked on the downstairs door with a stack of Eggo waffles on a plate in hand.

If there was a food that even a manic, sleep-deprived Samuel could not resist, it was pre-boxed waffles. Matt had even found the ones with bits of “fruit” in them specifically because his apprentice occasionally required additional motivation.

Sam stopped speaking for a moment inside.

“Just a sec, that’s the big guy I think,” he said.

He cracked open the door.

“I’m doing things,” he said.

“I sure hope so,” Matt told him. “I’ve bought calories. Take them.”

Sam noticed the waffles and seemed to perk up. It didn’t last.

“What do you want from me?” he asked.

The paranoia was strong with this one.

“To give you calories. The husband demands it,” Matt said.

“Why?”

“God, if only I knew.”

The apprentice thought he was funny occasionally. It was warming.

“Here, eat,” Matt said, handing over the plate.

Sam took it.

“I’m doing an AMA,” he said.

A what?

“An AMA. It’s an Ask Me Anything. The folks from twitter asked for one, so I made a Blindspot Youtube channel and I’m answering questions.”

Why the fuck would he do that?

“Because people are interested in us, sensei. People want to support us. And why shouldn’t we let them? Anyways, do you want to answer some questions?”

Absolutely not.

Godspeed, influencer-child.

Sam laughed.

“Just a couple?” he pleaded. “Everyone’s asking me questions about you.” Sam moved his hands in front of his chest heat in a praying gesture.

“Please?”

UGH.

This kid would be the death of him.

“I just did my hair, Samuel.”

Sam’s shoulders dropped in excitement.

“You’ll do it?” he asked.

Matt reached out and tapped the kid’s cheek area and was pleased to find that it was covered in mask material. Sam caught his hand and vibrated.

Christ.

“In a minute,” Matt sighed. “Let me finish with the dogs.”

Sam crowed in triumph.

As Matt headed back up the stairs, he heard Sam chirping happily to the people online in Chinese.

Foggy told Matt that he wasn’t wearing that sweater on Youtube. It had holes in it. He would hear nothing of Matt’s insistence that holes in clothing was very much DD’s type of style. Instead he went and dug Matt’s sweater with the long, wide collar out from the closet and made him put that on instead. And thusly adorned—actually no, those socks were too dorky. No avocados for you, sir. You may wear the tropical plants ones instead—and now _thusly_ adorned, Matt was allowed to go fish his helmet out from its bucket of suds in the laundry room.

He rinsed it and dried it off and plonked it down over his face, then submitted himself to Foggy’s appraisal once more before being declared fit for service. Only then did he hike back down the stairs to Sam’s bedroom door. He had to shoo the dogs back.

He didn’t know how recognizable they were, in and of themselves, and he didn’t want any bodies to be prying into their privacy or trying to target them to get to him.

Sorry, puppies. He needed more time to think about their social media presence.

“Oh, that’s sensei,” he heard Sam say through the whining and clicking of nails. “Wherever he goes, the pups follow. Here, gimme another minute, please.”

Sam opened his door and stepped out before closing it. He angled his face up.

“Am I cool enough?” Matt asked him, holding out his arms.

“I like the socks,” Sam said.

Nice.

“Did Foggy pick them?”

Less nice. Neither of these two had any faith in him whatsoever.

“I did,” he said.

Sam’s silence meant that he was making a face at him. Matt elected to ignore it.

“Come, educate me in the ways of MMAs,” Matt said.

“AMAs,” Sam corrected.

“Whatever.”

Sam opened the door and pulled Matt down to sit on the floor with him.

“The old man is in,” he told presumably his camera. “Behold him in all his weekend glory. Sensei, say hi.”

“Hi to who?” Matt asked as Sam adjusted the camera.

“The people. The community. Our adoring fans,” Sam said.

Fascinating.

“Where do I say hi?” Matt asked.

“Here,” Sam said, tapping on the camera to give him a direction.

“Okay, hello,” Matt said that way.

“With more enthusiasm,” Sam told him. “Folks have stayed up way late for this. At least pretend you care about them.”

More? Enthusiasm?

“Nevermind,” Sam sighed. “Anyways, hi, y’all. We’re back. As you can see, this is the old man. He’s going to answer just a couple of questions, so make ‘em count!”

Wait, did everyone call him the ‘old man’ in this MMA?

“AMA, teach.”

Whatever.

Sam huffed.

“ _This_ is exactly why we do,” he said.

Matt huffed back.

“Anyways,” Sam said. ”—oh. We’ve already got loads of questions. Hey, you guys have to ‘at’ me on twitter if you want me to see it. Thanks. Okay, let’s start with some Youtube ones.”

Matt crossed his legs and leaned back to pop his back.

He realized that Sam had paused.

“Every time you do that, I swear your back is gonna break,” Sam said.

Ehn, well. That was fair.

“Ah, here we go. JunLee_88 asks: sensei—that’s what they call you, actually—that was a big noise! Do you have arthritis from all your injuries? If so, what do you do to help it?”

Dude, what.

Personal much.

Next.

“No, teach, that’s the point,” Sam said. “They’re supposed to be personal.”

“What?”

“That’s the point,” Sam repeated. “AMAs are so that people can get to know you.”

Ah.

They were stupid then.

“ _Sensei_. You _said_ you’d answer some. Be nice.”

Ugh. Fine. He would humor this nonsense. What was the question again?

“Whaddya do when your bones are crunchy?” Sam asked, then said something in Chinese. Matt blinked slowly his way.

“More?” he asked.

“No, I’m just—there are a lot of folks who don’t speak English so well,” Sam explained. “I’m translating for them.”

Oh, right.

“Question, old man. Answer the question.”

“I’m answerin’, Christ,” Matt huffed. “I guess—I dunno. I stretch a lot? Heat packs help. Mostly it depends on the weather.”

“He’s a walking barometer. We use him to know whether or not to take an umbrella,” Sam said.

WOW.

Rude.

“Next question!” Sam said cheerfully. “ErikaP asks: ‘BT’—that’s me!—'how tall are you? I thought you were pretty tall until sensei sat down next to you.’”

Matt laughed.

Sam seethed his way.

“I’m plenty tall,” he said. “I’m still growing. I’ve got years of growth to get to.”

Matt snickered.

Sam leaned into his space to mug at him.

“ _Years_ ,” he said.

“Maybe a year at the most,” Matt said.

“This guy’s not even that tall,” Sam scoffed, jerking back out of Matt’s space. “He’s got stilt-disease is all. He fought Stilt-man one too many times and his legs are extendable now. Anyways, I’m 5’7”. Sensei is 6 foot Giant Asshole. Next question, let’s go to Twitter. Hi, Twitter. Uuuuuum. Here, Reina_MNC asks: ‘hi BT, hi sensei. Sensei, do you have any other students besides BT? Word is that you’ve trained lots of people, including spiderman! Is that true? (Also, I’ve never seen you wear a ring before. Are you married?’)”

Matt was taken aback. The idea that people were talking about him and his relations to other vigilantes over his head or behind his back was…strange. It was like getting to a party and being welcomed by a bunch of folks saying ‘we were _just_ talking about you!’

He realized after a beat that Sam had already translated this and was waiting for him to respond.

“Ah. Right. Thanks, Reina?” he tried. He got the feeling that Sam was beaming at him. This must have been the correct way to do this. “I’ve trained some people, yes. Spiderman is one of them, but that was ages ago back when he was a wee one. Since then, no. Blindspot is the only student I’ve worked with so extensively.”

“Because he loves me,” Sam interjected.

“Because you’re dedicated,” Matt said. “I couldn’t ask for a better student.”

Sam’s heart did something complicated and his breath stuttered ever so slightly, but he recovered.

“You can’t just say shit like that,” Sam scolded him. “We’re on camera. People are gonna think you care.”

Matt couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Reina also asked about your ring,” Sam reminded him.

“Ah. Yes. I don’t usually wear it when I go out. Don’t want it to get damaged,” Matt said.

“Teach,” Sam sighed. “She wants to know how long you’ve been married. That is the point of this question. Stop avoiding.”

“Since the dawn of time,” Matt said.

“ _Teach_.”

Matt grinned. Sam sighed in disgust and said something in Chinese to the camera.

“Next question from twitter,” Sam carried on. “Okay, so DK_2000 asks: ‘aww, sensei’s so fond of BT’—yes, of course he is, why wouldn’t he be?—'BT is there something you and sensei do to decompress after a night of fighting? Like boardgames? Bonding activities?’”

Sam considered this. Matt had to consider it too. Mostly, when he and Sam got back from the city, they spent their time stitching and treating wounds and getting scolded by Foggy and Kirsten.

“We don’t really need bonding activities,” Sam said. “We already spend a lot of time together. We don’t do a lot of boardgames either. I think we do more of the opposite, actually? We try to spend time away from each other so we don’t drive ourselves up the wall.”

He translated this into Chinese and then turned Matt’s way.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“No, I think that’s probably true,” Matt said. “Everyone has different ways of processing what’s just happened to them. Spidey always used to pass out as soon as he got inside from a fight. Adrenaline just falls off, you know. I’m a crasher, too, that’s for sure, but Blindspot’s more of an ‘I’m so pumped, let’s build an ark’ kind of guy after a night out.”

Sam laughed.

“I just love wood,” he said. “I want to make a boat. Hey, have any of y’all done dragon boat racing? I want to do it so bad. If you’re in the bay area and you need another man for your team, hit me up in the comments.”

Ahahahaha.

No.

“No?” Sam asked Matt sadly. “Why no?”

“You’re gonna drown,” Matt told him.

“I’m not. You do triathlon. Why can’t I do dragon boating?”

Well, mostly because Matt had a coach and a guide. Samuel, on the other hand, had low-vision and a death wish. Not that these people needed to know that.

“You need a life jacket,” Matt said instead.

“I don’t. I’ve got these guns. I’ll bring my own damn self back to shore.”

Oh, kiddo.

“Alright, we’ll make a deal. I get to go free climbing if you get to go dragon boating,” Matt offered.

Sam did not like this deal. He chose to not even entertain it. He turned away from Matt immediately and started reading from one of his screen again.

“Bobbie from Fuzhou asks: ‘hey BT! Just wanted to know if you’re from Fuzhou! Your accent sounds super familiar to me.’ Hi Bobbie! I am, actually! Thanks for asking. I lived there before me and my family came to the US. WereSpider22 from South Carolina asks: ‘DD that sweater is bomb. Where’d you get it? Also, who’s your favorite vigilante to fight with and chill with? BT, the same question goes for you. Love you guys! Aw, that’s sweet.’ We love you—” Sam paused. “—well, _I_ love you too. Sensei doesn’t feel emotion. You wanna take this one first, boss?”

Foggy apparently had some insight after all.

“My husband gave me the sweater,” Matt said.

“Woah, DD, gettin’ real real here,” Sam said after a beat. “The comments just went wild.”

Why?

“’Cause you just outed yourself, man.”

Outed for what?

“The husband?”

Oh.

Did people seriously think he was straight?

“Well, not anymore. You wanna tack a label onto that or nah?”

Ugh. Labels.

“You heard it here first folks: “Ugh. Labels.” —Daredevil, AMA, 2020,” Sam said cheerfully. “Anyways, let’s blaze past that—no we’re not taking questions on it, guys. Sorry. For everyone who just started crying, DD is so happy for you. He’ll officiate all your gay weddings in solidarity.”

“I’ll do _what_?” Matt asked.

“You’re ordained, aren’t you?” Sam asked him.

Ooh.

Was he?

Probably. That sounded like something he’d do.

Wait. No. Definitely. He was definitely ordained. Both he and Foggy were, technically, since that time in grad school where their whole cohort had taken the online course in a bar while horrendously intoxicated.

Ah, fun times.

“Only in the state of New York,” Matt said. “But as for your other question, Were-something, was it? I’ve got a number of people who I like to partner up with. Jessica Jones, Spiderman, and Hawkeye are probably some of my favorites. In regard to who I would rather just chill with, well. I don’t chill. But if I did, I’d say Jess.”

“They got drunk together last time we were in the city and cried over an orange,” Sam reported dutifully. “I think if I had to pick a partner it would be DD first, obviously, but then—hm. I don’t actually know. I haven’t worked with a lot of others yet. Teach, if you had to pick one for me, who would it be?”

“Well, we tried Spidey and that went tits up,” Matt thought out loud. “Maybe someone a bit less intense. So none of my friends. Maybe Bruce Banner.”

“No, it can’t be Dr. Banner, I’d embarrass myself and never be able to speak in public again,” Sam said. “Do another one.”

Matt snorted.

“Alright, probably Hawkeye,” he said. “He’s pretty apathetic about existence until a need to be otherwise arises.”

Sam took a moment to visualize this.

“You just want Hawkeye because you want me babysat,” he scowled.

Matt tucked his smirk into his hand.

“WOW. WOW. That’s an admission, sir. Sir. That’s—wow.”

“You’re so cute,” Matt told him.

“I’m deadly.”

“Like a toddler with a knife.”

“Oh. My. _God_. I’m lethal, grandpa. I’ll show you. I’m gonna make friends with the Hulk now. You just wait. New fucking question. Man. Guys, bully this man for me. Okay, here’s one from TheBurgerKing from San Antonio--Hey BK. I’m proud of you for your username. BK asks: ‘hi Blindspot! Love your feed and so inspired for your work, but this one is for sensei’—of course it is. I know why y’all are really here—'DD, can you tell us about your dogs??? This is vital to my existence.’”

That was a tough one.

“I can tell you some,” Matt said. “But I don’t want no one holding them hostage.”

“Everyone’s freaking out in the chat,” Sam said. “They really want to hear about the pups.”

Cute.

“They’re both retrievers,” Matt said. “One’s eleven and the other’s nearly three. We call one of them the Queen and the other the Princess.”

The Queen loves me best,” Sam interjected. 

“For now,” Matt said.

“For _ever_ ,” Sam stage-whispered. “Oh, people are asking if they can send puppy treats to my P.O. box. I dunno about that, guys. Sensei’s got them on a pretty strict diet. But maybe you can send some toys? What do you think, boss?”

“No toys. No food,” Matt said. “They’re already spoiled and our Lady has her tennis balls. She won’t touch anything else.”

“A thousand people on twitter want to know if they’re good girls,” Sam said.

“They’re the best girls,” Matt said solemnly.

“Ehn. One of them is,” Sam amended.

Matt turned his way slowly. Threatening.

Sam leaned slightly the other way.

“Winnie from the Australia asks: ‘hi BT & DD. Are you guys coffee drinkers or tea drinkers?’ Oh. No, we’re coffee people, Winnie. Sorry. I need maximum caffeine in minimum consumption time. This old guy drinks coffee, but I have literally watched him shotgun a Monster before, so there’s that, too. Children watching: do as we say, not as we do. Hey, we’re running out of time here. Let’s do some quick fire ones. Okay, Boss, everyone wants to know how if you’ve heard people calling you ‘Red Batman.’”

“I have heard,” Matt said. “But I’ve yet to acquire a cape.”

“Send one to my P.O. Box and I’ll post a pic of him embodying the whole spirit,” Sam said. “Twitter wants to know if I got hurt last week. Yeah, some dickhead nailed me in the leg. I’m okay, though. Thanks for asking. Facebook people are asking what products we would sponsor if we got offered. For me? Definitely batteries, Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, and Band-aids. Don’t worry, DD, I’ve got you too. He’d sponsor Trader Joe’s lemons, Yeti thermoses, and also Band-aids. Hi, Band-Aid, if you ever want to sponsor us, we would do it in a heartbeat. We are poor and have waffles and coffee to buy. Anyways, Twitter people are asking what our names are: nice try, friends. You can call us Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. I’m Bruce Wayne. And finally, Youtube is asking if we will do another AMA—teach, what do you think?”

What did Matt think?

He thought the whole concept was silly and pointless.

“That’s a rousing ‘yes’ from DD,” Sam reported to the camera. “But for me? For real? This has been a serious time suck. I love y’all, but if it happens again, it’s going to be maybe only once in this coming year. Unless I got put on bed rest. In which case, I will do another one when I get strapped in. Okay, guys. Thanks so much for hanging out with us. Have great days and be kind to your fellow humans. Bye!”

Sam did something and clicked around a bit on his computer.

“It’s done now?” Matt asked him.

“Yep! That was it,” Sam said coming over to flop down next to him. “Thanks for doing that. People got super excited to see you.”

Silly.

Sam leaned against his arm a bit.

“People admire you, sensei,” he said.

Yeah, whatever.

“I admire you.”

Absolutely not.

“I’ve got things to do,” Matt said, getting up and cracking his back once more. “Try to get some sleep. Fogs seems to think you’ve been up all night.”

Sam promised that he would.

Matt closed his bedroom door behind him and hiked up the stairs.

Silly.

Just silly.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Red Batman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439351) by [BelgianReader2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelgianReader2/pseuds/BelgianReader2)




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